


The Birdcage

by Wi1dflower



Category: The Rook (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Checquy (The Rook), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, Multi, Smut, Spies & Secret Agents, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 08:37:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21505018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wi1dflower/pseuds/Wi1dflower
Summary: The mission was simple: infiltrate the Lugat. Myfanwy only needed to play the role of a captured EVA for a few days until she would be rescued and their organization dismantled, but the plan falls apart when she’s unexpectedly transferred to an undisclosed location and held captive by the Lugat’s most trusted and valued member, Gestalt.
Relationships: Gestalt (The Rook) / Myfanwy Thomas
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

The glare from the sun reflected off the glass walls. It was blindingly bright, but she knew it wouldn’t deter anyone from peering into her office. She wasn’t one to complain—avoided it unless absolutely necessary—but she despised the glass that surrounded her. She felt like a caged animal on display. An exhibition.

She lost count of the times she glanced up from her computer screen to find someone watching her with a curious expression. They quickly averted their eyes and pretended to be busy with the files laying in front of them or spun on their heels, nearly spilling their coffee on the pristine floor. 

It was unnerving, but not unexpected. She only wished the glass would silence their whispers. Even with both doors shut, their voices somehow seeped through the cracks. 

_ Who’s that in Daniel’s old office? _ Myfanwy Thomas. The newly appointed Rook. 

_ What’s her EVA? _ Transdermal neurotransmission, I think. 

_ What does that mean? _ Not sure. It’s a Level 8, though. 

The commentary was endless, and nothing seemed to be off-limits. They remarked on her appearance, her personality, her intelligence. They speculated whether she had a boyfriend waiting at home. A girlfriend, perhaps. They took bets on how long it would take for her to make a mistake. To cause a big enough shit storm that her rank would be in jeopardy. 

Myfanwy kept her face a mask of indifference. It was still only her first week at the Checquy. Their curiosity would wane eventually. At least, that’s what she told herself. She repeated it like a mantra. A promise. Eventually, she would no longer be an outsider. 

With the determination of someone out to prove themself, she completed the stack of papers left on her desk earlier that morning in record time. Satisfied with her work, she spun in her chair to look out at the skyline for a moment. Small birds flew past her window, chirping excitedly as they swooped through the air. In the distance, a plane began its descent from the clouds.

A soft knock suddenly sounded on her office door. “Everything alright, Myfanwy?”

“Yes, Ingrid,” she replied, swiveling in her seat to face her assistant. “I just finished with those reports.”

She rolled into the room and collected the files from her desk. “Great. Now you can start on this new batch. Also, as a reminder, you have a meeting with Farrier in thirty minutes.”

Myfanwy frowned and checked the time on her phone. “Right. Thank you, Ingrid.”

“It’ll get better. You’ll see.”

Her head snapped up in surprise, and she watched as Ingrid placed the new documents on her desk then left the room with a knowing smile. Through the glass walls, she caught another man staring. She didn’t quite remember his name. Anthony? Anderson? Andrew? He grinned and gave her a small wave. 

She ignored the gesture.

For thirty minutes, she focused on her assigned work. After a while, the words on the pages began to blend together until they were entirely incomprehensible. She signed signature after signature, stifling a yawn after each one. Finally, the sound of shuffling feet outside her office alerted her to personnel filling into the nearby conference room. She hurriedly closed the folder in front of her and followed them into the room. Three sat on one side of the table and two on the other, leaving the middle seat open. She pulled the chair out to sit between them, wincing slightly as it screeched against the floor. 

A moment later, Farrier strode into the room, all business and efficiency. The situation, as she called it, was that an EVA auction would be held imminently. Two days prior, a young EVA captured by the Lugat overheard the Vultures discussing the impending sale before he escaped and was subsequently rescued by Checquy agents. He didn’t know where it was taking place or who was involved, but he was certain that the auction was scheduled for the following Friday. 

CCTV footage showed the Vultures driving a nondescript black van Eastbound through the city two days prior. It originated from a warehouse several miles outside of London. The plates were stolen, so they were unable to determine who the vehicle was registered to. Facial recognition was also a dead end.

The investigation was at a standstill until more information came to light. In the meantime, they would monitor internet traffic for any references to EVAs or the auction, but they already knew it would be a wasted effort. The Lugat encrypted all of their communications and transactions. Anonymity was their top priority. 

The man seated across from Myfanwy sighed and ran his hand across his stubbled chin. “If only we had a man on the inside.”

It sparked an idea. An idea she’d later come to regret. 

“I’ll do it.”

All eyes turned to look at her. Myfanwy’s cheeks flushed from the attention, but she forced herself to sit taller in her chair and hold her head high. 

“You’ll do what?” Farrier frowned.

“I’ll be your inside man,” she said firmly. “The Lugat have no idea who I am. It’s perfect, really. They’ll capture me for the auction and take me to wherever the other EVAs are being held. I can wear a wire or a camera, something that will transmit information back to you. On Friday, you can come to us. We’ll have everything. The EVAs. The Lugat. The buyers. It’ll all be there.”

The room fell quiet. 

The woman on Myfanwy’s left side drummed her manicured nails on the table. “It would be incredibly dangerous.”

“And would require substantial planning,” the man on her right side added.

“But, it just might work.”

Myfanwy turned to look at Farrier. Adrenaline pumped in her veins, and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “You’ll let me do it?”

Farrier was silent for a long moment, staring at the image of the black van on the screen behind her. A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. “Yes, I will.”

As it turned out, substantial planning was an understatement. It required extensive attention to detail, which took hours to complete. They started by creating a fake persona. It was too risky to reveal her true identity, so they created someone new. Millie Brooks. A librarian. An EVA.

They planted stories online of her abilities. By mere touch, she could leave someone fully incapacitated. It was a somewhat accurate description of her EVA, although vastly simplified. As long as the Lugat didn’t understand her true power, she had the upper hand. They knew it wouldn’t take long for the Vultures to get wind of the reports and begin searching. It was their very nature to scavenge. 

It took a lot of strategizing, but they eventually settled on Myfanwy wearing a tracking device sewn into an article of clothing. Anything else would be easily discovered and alert the Lugat to their involvement. Once they traced her signal, they’d know precisely where the other EVAs were being held captive. The surrounding area would be kept under close surveillance until the day of the auction, and agents would intercept the EVAs before they left the premises. 

In the event something were to go wrong, Myfanwy was ordered to use her EVA—with deadly force if necessary. It was a thought she tried not to dwell on. It was a thought she tried not to dwell on. 

For her own safety, she was also told not to return to the office. She needed to remain in public to ensure the Vultures would find her. “They won’t hesitate to make a scene. If they see you, they’ll stop at nothing to get you.”

The hours passed in a blur. By the end of the meeting, Myfanwy’s head was spinning, and she worried she made the grave mistake everyone was betting she’d make. She walked numbly to her office, frowning at the pitch-black sky outside, and gathered the stack of files to take home with her. At the doorway, she paused to take in the space one last time. 

With a sigh, she turned and left the glass walls behind. 

The circumstances weren’t ideal, but one perk of being prohibited from going to work was the ability to properly explore London. She hadn’t done so since she was a child before her EVA manifested, and she was sent to Glengrove. It was where she had lived until her promotion to Rook.

Bright and early the next morning, she left the safety of her flat and made her way to the nearest tube. She didn’t have an exact destination in mind, but she figured it didn’t really matter. 

It was crowded inside, and it instantly put her on edge. Danger seemed to lurk in every corner. She reminded herself more than once that she was a highly trained agent. Years of study at Glengrove prepared her for this type of fieldwork. She was ready. 

But the Vultures weren’t. 

She spent the day traversing parks, museums, and shops. She walked until her feet ached and blistered. The sky filled with light as the sun rose, then darkened again as the sun set. No one came for her. She returned home, both relieved and disappointed.

She tried again the next day. 

And the next. 

Then, it happened. 

The heat of their stare burned into her skin, and she knew—even without turning around—they were there. A shiver ran down her spine as she stepped out of the tube and into the busy station. A gruff looking man shouldered past her roughly in a hurry to make his connection, and Myfanwy nearly jumped out of her skin from the shock. She watched him disappear around the corner, and her eyes met the Vultures. His lips curled back in a menacing smile. Her gaze traveled down his body to the blue latex gloves that covered his hands. And beneath the material of his jacket was the telltale bulge of a holstered weapon. 

She took a deep, calming breath. It was arguably the most important performance of her life, and it needed to be convincing. 

Myfanwy maintained a brisk pace out of the station, listening to the thud of heavy footsteps approaching her from behind. She suspected they were biding their time until they were in a less congested area. Until she wasn’t surrounded by sleep-deprived Londoners on their way to work who were inadvertently blocking the Vulture’s shot. 

At the set of stairs, she broke into a full-on sprint, using the handrail to propel herself forward. An angry shout rang out in the background as she nearly knocked a man to the ground. Her skin beaded with sweat and she pushed her way through the onlookers and out onto the streets. Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out the blaring of horns as she cut across the traffic. 

The footsteps behind her returned, and she glanced over her shoulder to see how close they were. But, there were three of them this time. 

They descended on her like a pack of wolves starving for the kill. 

She abruptly turned the corner, nearly colliding with a woman pushing a pram, but then pain shot through her lower back and she collapsed onto the pavement. 

And the world went dark.    
  



	2. Chapter 2

Sharp shooting pain at the base of her skull roused her to consciousness. There was a brief moment of ignorant bliss when she thought she’d had too many drinks at the pub the previous night. But, one-by-one, her senses returned, as well as the crushing realization that she wasn’t warm and safe in her bed. She’d been taken by the Lugat. 

Myfanwy reached tentatively to touch the back of her head and breathed a sigh of relief that it was unbloodied. She sat up stiffly on the concrete bench, stretching her sore muscles as she surveyed her surroundings. 

The room was endlessly grey. A bright, blinking red light on the camera mounted on the ceiling was the only bit of color in the small space. The walls were padded with soundproofing material, and she suspected it was so the Lugat wouldn’t hear her scream. The screams of all the EVAs that traversed through these rooms before being auctioned off to the highest bidder. 

She imagined the children that these walls confined. An intense rage shot through her at the thought of their cries unwanted and unanswered. Myfanwy seethed at the camera then decided she needed to do something. She had a role to play, after all. A groan slipped past her lips as she moved to stand, but the second she slid her legs off the bench, her lower back spasmed and she keeled over onto the cold, hard floor. 

“Fuck!” Myfanwy gasped.

She slowly pushed herself up to lean against the bench and searched beneath her shirt to find the injection site. At her lower spine, her fingers made contact with the sensitive skin, and she hissed at the tenderness of it. Not once during the strategic meeting did she stop to consider that being shot with a tranquilizer would really fucking hurt. 

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she closed her eyes as a wave of nausea rolled over her. She pressed the side of her face to the cool concrete, waiting for her stomach to settle. After a few minutes, the worst of it passed, and she shrugged off her jacket under the guise of it being too warm. She discreetly swiped her thumb over the button at the top of the collar. The tracking device made it safely into the compound. 

Myfanwy made a show of checking her pockets for her phone even though she knew she wouldn’t find it. They had confiscated her handbag, which posed far less of a security risk than her burner phone. 

The room was still spinning, and her head threatened to split in half, but she forced herself to crawl on her hands and knees to the door on the other side of the room. Her hand closed over the handle, and she mustered all the strength she had to pull it downward. Nothing. 

She collapsed against the wall and stared desperately up at the camera. “Let me out!”

The red light continued to blink. 

“Why are you doing this?” Myfanwy cried. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. A sob wracked through her body. “What do you want?”

_ Blink. Blink. Blink.  _

A latch clicked, and the door opened.

Myfanwy scrambled back to the bench, tucking her legs close to her chest. She wanted to look small, weak. Afraid of what awaited her on the other side of the door. The men sneered at her as they walked into the room, and she knew instantly that she succeeded. The first guard remained in the doorway, holding a gun tightly in his burly hands. He tried his best to look intimidating, but the slight tremor in his jaw gave away his nerves. 

“Hold out your hands,” the second guard demanded. 

Myfanwy reached for her jacket, but the guard ripped it from her hands and threw it back on the bench. “Hands. Now!”

She raised her wrists so he could place a pair of shackles around them, wincing as they bit into her flesh. He hauled her roughly to her feet and pushed her toward the door. His nails, dirty and uncut, left scratch marks on her upper arm. 

Myfanwy’s legs threatened to buckle underneath her. “Who are you? What is this place? Where are you taking me?” 

“Not another word,” the first guard said, pressing his weapon to her back. 

They stepped out of the room and into a narrow corridor. Several doors lined each side of the hall, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that those rooms were identical to her own. She wondered how many of them were currently occupied by other EVAs. 

The sound of the guards’ heavy footfalls filled the silence as they walked. They turned a corner at the end of the corridor and came to a set of stairs. Myfanwy braced her bound hands on the wall to keep herself from falling. They took a left at the landing, and stopped in front of a door labeled ‘Testing Room 2.’ The second guard flashed a badge in front of the scanner and the lock disengaged. 

“No! Stop! Let me go!”

Myfanwy snapped her head to the right, and her heart raced at the sight of a young girl being dragged away by guards. She instinctively took a step forward to help the girl but stopped when she felt the gun against her body. 

“Inside!” the guard shouted. “Now!”

She watched as the girl disappeared then dejectedly stepped into the room. The second guard appeared in front of her to remove the shackles then quickly backed out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind them. 

Myfanwy rubbed her wrists to soothe the irritated skin. 

The room was spacious, with only a single table in the center. A box sat on top of it covered by a blanket. She feared what she would find underneath if she pulled back the material. A window stretched across one of the white walls, and a woman in a lab coat stood on the other side. An observation room. 

The guards joined the woman inside, standing on either side of her. She leaned down to a microphone on the desk. “Millie Brooks, is it?”

Myfanwy crossed her arms and nodded her head. 

“Welcome,” she smiled broadly. “I’ve been told your EVA is transdermal. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Myfanwy said. 

“In order to assess your bidding value, we need to understand your abilities. We’ll start with a live demonstration, and tomorrow I’d like to run some diagnostic tests.” The woman looked down at a tablet in her hand. “Your last sedative should have worn off by now. On the table, you’ll find a live specimen. When you’re ready, please begin.” 

Myfanwy gaped at the woman. “No, I won’t do it.”

The woman frowned and leaned back down to the microphone, but before she could say anything, one of the guards stepped in front of her. “Yes, you will. Otherwise, I’ll bring in that little girl, and you can use your EVA on her instead. It’s your choice.” 

Myfanwy bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. She walked up to the table and carefully removed the blanket, revealing a birdcage. Inside, a yellow canary sat perched on a block of wood. It chirped excitedly, turning its head side-to-side to study the new environment. 

She tried to remember what information they leaked online about her EVA. Incapacitation. That’s the word they used. She didn’t need to kill the bird, at least. 

“Get on with it!”

Myfanwy glared at the guard. She committed his face to memory and promised herself she’d be the one to apprehend him on Friday. 

Her hand shook as she undid the latch on the cage. She reached inside to gently stroke the bird’s feathers then lowered her finger so it could take perch on her. Myfanwy pulled her hand slowly out of the cage so she wouldn’t startle it. With a deep breath, she let her EVA take control. 

It was small at first. Barely noticeable. Nothing more than a tiny flicker of the wings. Then, in an explosive display of power, the bird’s wings stretched wide, and its head turned skyward as it let out a piercing cry. It was motionless for a minute. Dazed. And then it fell lifelessly to the floor. 

Myfanwy dropped to her knees and held the bird in her hands. She sighed as she felt its chest rise and fall. It was still alive.

She stood and returned it carefully to the cage. “I’m sorry.” 

The door to the testing room opened, and the guard once again ordered her to hold out her hands. She turned back to the window to see if the woman was impressed with her demonstration, but she was no longer there. The guard who threatened the young girl was quiet as they walked back to her room.

There was a tray of food waiting for her when she returned. A sandwich she didn’t dare touch and a glass of water she desperately wanted to. But, she didn’t trust it not to be drugged with more sedatives, and she needed to keep a clear head. Myfanwy licked her dry lips and reluctantly set the tray by the door. 

She folded her jacket until it somewhat resembled a pillow then stretched herself out on the bench. As her eyes became bleary, she wondered how long it had been since she was taken. Trapped in the windowless room without her phone, it was impossible to tell the time. She didn’t even know whether it was day or night.

Eventually, she fell into a dreamless slumber. 

The sound of shouting woke her up sometime later. Guards rushed into her room and forced her to stand in the corner while they searched through the space with a bug detector. She watched helplessly as the device began to beep the closer the guards approached her jacket. They shared a look with each other and passed the detector directly over the garment. A high-pitched blare filled the room. 

She tried to think of an excuse—a reason why a librarian would be in possession of a government-issued tracking device—but a guard quickly shot her with another tranquilizer, and she collapsed to the floor. The last thought that crossed her mind before she passed out was that she failed. 

“This is your fuckup, so you’re the one who has to tell Gestalt.”

“It’s not my fault the sensors didn’t immediately pick it up! Blame Lewis. He’s the one who rebooted the system last week.”

“Gestalt told me to reboot the system!”

“Are you going to tell Gestalt this is their fault?”

“No.”

“Fucking hell.”

Myfanwy drifted in and out of consciousness. She listened to the tail-end of their conversation, uncertain whether it was real or a dream. The darkness pulled her back under before she could decide. 

“I knew she was trouble the second I laid eyes on her.”

“You say that about all the EVAs.”

“I was right this time, wasn’t I?”

She was being carried somewhere. Her head slumped forward onto someone’s chest, and she could hear their heart beating steadily in her ear. She was too tired to put up a fight. 

“Why do they have to live in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

“Gestalt values their privacy.”

“We better get paid overtime. I’m missing my kid’s birthday party for this shit. My wife nearly cut my balls off when I told her I wouldn’t make it.”

“You’re lucky Gestalt even let you keep your balls. I’ve never seen them so furious. Remember the Glasgow incident? This is worse. Far worse.”

“What do you think they’re going to do with her?”

“No fucking idea, but she’s as good as dead. A canceled auction and an unsecured safe house. She cost them millions.”

They were driving now. The vehicle turned onto a gravel road, and Myfanwy could hear rocks pinging against the undercarriage. Her fingers twitched at her sides, but the sway of the car lulled her back to sleep. 

“What the hell is this place?”

“Gestalt had it built just for her. Crews have been in here day and night to get it finished in time.” 

“It’s better than she deserves. If it were up to me, I’d keep her locked in the fucking crate.” 

“Nah. It’s designed specifically for her EVA. There isn’t a chance in hell she’ll escape. No chance the Checquy will find her either.” 

“Hurry up! I don’t want to be here when they get back.” 

“What time is it? Shit. We’re running behind.”

The fog slowly began to fade. Memories of the compound flashed through her mind: the young EVA screaming at the guards, the bird falling lifelessly to the ground, the incessant beeping of the bug detector in her room. Myfanwy opened her eyes, expecting to see those same grey walls, but she was somewhere far more sinister. 

It was a cage. A glass cage. 

As she looked around the space, she realized she wasn’t wearing her t-shirt and jeans. Someone had changed her into a simple white camisole and shorts. Heat rose to her cheeks at the thought of one of those guards undressing her while she was unconscious. 

Myfanwy shook her head. It was the least of her concerns at the moment. 

She stood on shaky legs and pressed her palm to one of the glass walls. Light from the cage spilled out into the dark room on the other side. Not far enough, though. The light only extended a meter out from the cage. She didn’t know what lied beyond that point. 

Myfanwy walked the room until she came to the door, but it wasn’t possible to open it from the inside. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized the severity of the situation. She pounded her fists on the glass over and over again until it smeared with her blood. Then, she threw her body against the door once, twice, three times. It was too thick to break. 

A laugh rang out from the darkness. 

“Hello?” Myfanwy whispered. 

Silence. 

She raised her voice slightly. “Is someone there?”

There was still no response. 

Myfanwy was almost convinced she imagined it until four figures suddenly stepped out from the shadows.    
  



	3. Chapter 3

They appeared like an apparition.

The four of them stood side-by-side dressed elegantly in all black as if they had just arrived from a funeral. Their ghostly white hair and fair skin contrasted starkly against the dark fabric, and for a brief moment, she wondered if they were even real. 

They could be a hallucination. A poor reaction to the sedatives the Vultures had given her, or simply her mind playing tricks after days of stress and exhaustion. 

Or, perhaps they were the restless spirits of EVAs who had been imprisoned in those same walls, come to warn her so she wouldn’t share their fate. 

But, by the way their mouths twisted into almost feral smiles, as they stared back at her, she had a feeling that they were not there to save her.

She studied them one-by-one, searching for a spark of recognition. 

The first man stood above the others. The crisp, clean-cut lines of his dress shirt and trousers reeked of affluence. His slightly gelled hair was swept to the side, but a single lock hung loosely over his forehead. A smattering of dark hairs bristled over his face to form a neatly trimmed beard and outlined the sharp angles of his jaw. 

The woman beside him shared his green eyes. She was the smallest of them all, but Myfanwy didn’t doubt she still posed a threat. Her knee-length dress clung to the curves of her body, showcasing the toned muscles that could only be achieved through a rigorous workout regimen. Her hair was styled in an updo with a few curly strands framing her rosy cheeks. 

The second man had a messy mop of curly hair on top of his head. As if to accentuate how little he cared about his appearance, he wore an Adidas tracksuit set and trainers. His broad shoulders hunched forward, so he wasn’t standing at his full height, and the corners of his deep, blue eyes crinkled as he sneered at her. 

The third man was dressed in a tailored suit, a white handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket. His hair was slicked back toward the nape of his neck, revealing the dark roots underneath. His body seemed to radiate tension as his brows knitted together, and his fists clenched at his sides. 

Their resemblance was too striking to be strangers. The men with the unkempt curls and smoothed back hair were undoubtedly twins. The other man and the woman she was less sure of; although, she thought it was possible they were also siblings. 

But, she didn’t recognize any of them, and that terrified her most of all. The Checquy had spent hours debriefing her on all the known Lugat associates, yet she had never seen them before. 

Before Myfanwy could consider what that meant, the woman suddenly stepped toward the glass, and the men wordlessly circled the cage until they surrounded her on all sides. 

She struggled to keep her eyes on all of them at once, afraid to let even one of them out of her sight, but she was outnumbered. She swallowed thickly, trying to remember her years of training. 

They all took the same stance, hands clasped in front of them and feet slightly parted, and fixed her with stone-cold stares. Their eyes raked over her as if they were assessing something important. 

Myfanwy couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“It doesn’t matter who I am.”

She shuddered at the sound of their voices, blending seamlessly together. 

The woman pursed her ruby-red lips. “What matters is who you are.”

“Myfanwy Alice Thomas,” a voice called out behind her. Myfanwy’s attention snapped to the man with the curly hair. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from laughing at her shocked expression.

“A newly recruited Rook of the Checquy,” added the man with the beard.

Myfanwy’s heart skipped a beat. “How do you—”

“Born on the 23rd of May, 1989. Your parents were Daniel and Lynn Thomas. You were raised in Rayleigh, along with your younger sister Bronwyn, until your EVA manifested at the age of sixteen, and you were sent to Glengrove House.” The man with the slicked-back hair brushed his thumb over the bruised knuckles on his right hand. “Your family died in a car crash a year later. Your father had a bit too much to drink and wrapped the family car around a tree. Killed all of them instantly.”

White-hot agony coursed through her body. “Don’t you fucking—”

“While at Glengrove, you were taken under the wing of none other than Linda Farrier. King of the Checquy,” the woman continued. “She took a special interest in you. Oversaw all your training, recommended you to the best programs. She first offered you the position of Rook last year, but you turned it down. It wasn’t until she asked again a month ago that you finally accepted.”

“What made you change your mind, I wonder?”

“That’s enough! You’ve made your fucking point. Just get on with it already,” Myfanwy seethed. Beads of sweat gathered along her hairline, and she dug her nails into the palms of her hands to hide the fact that they were trembling. 

“I’ve read all the reports—”

Myfanwy’s eyes widened. “What reports?”

“Glengrove’s security is severely lacking,” the man with the beard supplied, studying his nails as if he was bored with their conversation. “I know everything there is to know about you, Myfanwy. But as insightful as those reports were, the one thing they didn’t tell me is why the Checquy tried to infiltrate my auction.”

“The Lugat has always abided by the diplomatic code. We don’t come after serving Checquy officers, and they don’t interfere in our business dealings. It’s a long-standing tradition dating back half a century, and you’ve managed to fuck it all up in a week.”

The man with the slicked-back hair looked at her in disgust. “You’re nothing but a baby bird who hasn’t yet learned to fly, and the Checquy has already fed you to the fucking wolves. Tell me. What does it feel like to know the agency you’ve pledged your loyalty to has such little regard for your safety?”

A bitter laugh bubbled out of her chest. “You narcissistic pricks. The Checquy didn’t order me to do anything. I practically had to beg them to approve this mission. The Lugat has been getting away with trafficking EVAs for far too long. It was time someone did something about it.”

“You’re a fucking fool,” the man with the curls spat. “You’re telling me all of this is because of your own stupidity?”

“I’m the fool? You profit off the illegal selling of EVAs!” Myfanwy cried, throwing her hands in the air. “How do you sleep at night knowing that you’ve condemned children to a life of servitude? Don’t you even care what happens to them after they leave your auction?”

The woman rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Don’t be so naive as to think the Checquy is any different. They masquerade themselves as an institution of public service, protecting society from supernatural threats, but they steal children all the same. Rip them from the arms of their weeping mothers and lock them away in Glengrove, where they’re trained to be the perfect soldier.”

“They suppress anyone who tries to alert the news. Blackmail the whistleblowers, throw them into secret jails if they have to. All to keep their operation running.”

Myfanwy narrowed her eyes at them. “That’s a lie.”

“Is it?” the bearded man smirked.

“The EVAs at Glengrove have nowhere else to go. It’s the only home most of them have ever known. The only family they will ever have.”

They all cocked their heads to the side. “What about your family?”

“According to the reports, Her Majesty’s Government paid your parents one hundred thousand pounds to stop looking for you. They tried going to the media with the story that you had been kidnapped by a secret British intelligence agency, though no one believed them. By the time they had managed to track down other parents of missing EVA children, the Checquy had caught wind of what they were doing and gave them two options: accept a monetary gift to cease all inquiries into your disappearance or have their parental rights over your sister terminated. An easy choice if you ask me.”

They were lying. 

She knew they were lying, but it didn’t stop her eyes from stinging with unshed tears. If they had read her file, then they would know her family was a touchy subject. They were just trying to get under her skin.

“What is this?” She gestured vaguely to the cage. “Why am I here? Are you going to kill me? Torture me? I won’t tell you anything. What is it that you want?”

The twin with the curly hair slapped his palm against the glass. “What I wanted was my fucking auction, but because of you, it’s been canceled. I have a dozen pissed off buyers, all over the world, demanding my heads on a stake. I’ve had to scramble all the EVAs to secure locations. The safe house is a complete loss since agents are scouring the grounds for any evidence that might lead them back to you. And half my men are being followed, and are therefore useless to me.”

“But there is one silver lining,” the other twin mused, biting down on his thumbnail. “I have you.”

“A Rook of the Checquy. My buyers will be very pleased when they hear about you.”

“Not to mention, your EVA is a level 8. Transdermal neurotransmission. You were holding out on us in the lab, Myfanwy,” the woman accused, shaking her head. “You’re worth more than all the EVAs at the auction combined.”

The bearded man sighed. “Unfortunately, it will have to wait.” 

“The Checquy will devote countless resources to finding you, but eventually, those resources will run dry. I give it three, maybe for weeks before they decide you’re not worth the trouble.”

“You’re wrong,” Myfanwy said assuredly. “They won’t stop searching until they find me. It’s only a matter of time before they arrest all of you.”

The four strangers simultaneously looked down at the ground, then back up at her. “Did you know Linda Farrier was taken by Vultures as a child? She was rescued by the three founders of the Checquy. From the moment she took office, it has been her sole mission to see the collapse of the Lugat. I’d expected her to try something like this years ago, but she had always been too afraid of the political ramifications. So, instead, she sent the new Rook to do the work for her.”

“If the mission had been a success, she would have taken all the credit. But now that it’s failed, you’ll take all the blame. Farrier will tell the Home Office that you disobeyed direct orders and infiltrated our auction all on your own. She’ll sacrifice you to save her own career.”

Myfanwy stared at them blankly. She opened her mouth to argue that their claims were absurd and unfounded, but she couldn’t find the words. There was a part of her that worried that they were right. Did Farrier plan for her to be the scapegoat?

The woman ran a manicured finger across one of the panels of glass. “Do you like it? You should. It’s specially suited for your EVA. Reinforced polycarbonate glass and titanium beams. The vent on the ceiling is releasing an aerosol derived from bee venom to neutralize your abilities. No injection necessary.”

She looked up at the vent above the door. 

“You should make yourself comfortable, Myfanwy. You’re going to be here a while.” With one last smirk, all four of them stepped away from the cage and retreated back to the shadows. 

Myfanwy pounded her fists on the glass. “Wait! No! You can’t leave me here! You fucking cowards! Come back!”

She watched a bit of light leak into the room as they opened some unseen door, then the darkness crept back, and she knew she was alone. A twinge of panic welled up within her, but she forced herself to take steady breaths until she felt in control of her emotions. She couldn’t afford any careless mistakes. 

Once her heart rate slowed, she reached inside herself and tried to summon her EVA to the surface. Her fingers curled tightly at her sides as she searched, but she couldn’t find it. Where there was always a low hum of an electric current, there was only silence. It was gone.

Her EVA was gone.

It felt like a part of her was stolen. For the last decade, it had been her defining characteristic. It made her who she was, and it was missing. She didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved or some combination of the two.

_ Who was she without her EVA? _

Her eyes traveled back up to the vent. It was small, rectangular. Too narrow to fit through even if she could reach it. But, perhaps she could cover it to stop the airflow. If she could stop herself from breathing in the aerosol that was hindering her abilities, there was a chance her EVA could short-circuit the electric panel controlling the cage, and she could escape. 

Myfanwy glanced around the room for something she could use—a blanket, a towel, a piece of paper. But there was nothing. The room was completely barren, and all she had was the clothes on her back.

She grimaced as she realized she only had one option. 

There were likely cameras aimed at her at that very moment, but as repulsed as she was by the idea of baring herself in front of anyone who might be watching, she had no other choice. She had to try. 

Whoever had dressed her in the camisole and shorts hadn’t given her any undergarments, so she opted for stripping off her shirt. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she pulled off the top with one hand and covered her breasts with the other. 

She pinched the hem of the shirt between her fingers, and while she stood on the balls of her feet, flung the garment up at the vent, trying to get it to catch on the metal grate. But it fell limply to the floor. 

She tried again with the same result.

She tried so many times, her arms began to ache, and she finally threw the shirt back on just to give them a break. 

Myfanwy thought about what the strangers had said. The cage was a new construction. In the crew’s hurry to get it completed in time, they might have taken some shortcuts. They might have made a few mistakes in its assembly.

Each wall was made up of five panels of glass, and she tested all of them. She used all the strength in her body to kick every single sheet, willing one of them to crack even a little bit. All she needed was one weak spot. 

But, if there was one, she didn’t find it. 

After an hour of throwing herself at the walls, sweat dripped down her face, and her legs throbbed from the exertion of simply standing. 

Even worse were the pangs of hunger. The pit of her stomach tightened painfully in protest at being denied food for so long. She wished she had eaten the sandwich back at the compound. She didn’t even care anymore if it had been drugged. 

Myfanwy pressed her back against one of the walls and slid down to the floor. She needed to strategize, to plan her next move. 

How many days had it been since she left the compound?

She realized she didn’t know the answer to that question. It couldn’t have been more than two or three. The strangers admitted that the Checquy had been looking for her there, and by the barely restrained fury on their faces, she didn’t think they were lying. 

The compound would have been under twenty-four-hour surveillance once her tracking device was traced to the location. And agents would have seen all the cargo vans leaving the facility. Through CCTV footage, they would be able to track every single one of them until they found her. 

It was only a matter of time.

Myfanwy closed her eyes and allowed the exhaustion to take over. There was no use staying awake just to pace the small room and stare out at the darkness beyond those walls. She needed to keep a clear head. 

More importantly, she needed to be patient. 

At any time, the Checquy could storm through those doors to rescue her, and she had to be ready. She had to believe they wouldn’t give up on her that easily. 

Her survival depended on it. 


	4. Chapter 4

There was never a doubt in her mind that she had chosen the right path. For the last several years, she had dedicated herself entirely to the Checquy. She endured cuts, scrapes, bruises, blisters, broken bones, and vigorous psychological assessments that nearly split her mind in two and made her question her own reality. All in the name of becoming a Rook. It was the only purpose she had in life. Everything else—friends, family, hobbies, and interests—was lost to her like a ghost ship out at sea, but _this_ was attainable. 

A clear divide separated her life into two stages: before and after the manifestation of her EVA. When she was a recruit at Glengrove, she’d become adept at burying all traces of her past. All of her childhood memories were locked away in the deepest recesses of her mind. She had shoved them into a steel metal box, slammed the lid shut as if they’d try to jump out and escape, and then threw away the key. It was suggested by one of her instructors, who became increasingly agitated during their training sessions because she couldn’t last more than twenty minutes without having a breakdown. 

He’d said, “You have to choose. You can either keep feeling sorry for yourself or forget the past. No one outside of this building gives a shit about you. If you died tomorrow, it wouldn’t make a lick of difference to anyone out there. You have been given a once in a lifetime opportunity to train with the Checquy’s finest. We can help you achieve things you’ve never imagined. And someday, you can keep other EVAs from feeling the same despair that you’re feeling right now. Think of all the children being abducted by Vultures, of all the children being targeted by EVA threats at this very moment. They would kill to be in your position, and you’re wasting it. You need to be strong for them, Myfanwy.”

It was all she could do to focus on her future. 

If she let herself think too long about her family, she’d become weak. The memories were only a distraction that kept her from fulfilling her duties. However, on rare occasions, she would let herself search for the key. Laying down with her eyes closed, she would recall her mum’s soft face or her dad’s hearty laugh or her sister’s silly jokes. At first, she did it because she missed them. She was like an addict that needed a fix to make it through the day. It wasn’t until later that she did it because it gave her the motivation to keep moving forward. She was filled with so much hate and bitterness, and she channeled those negative emotions into her training. Despite everything they’d done, she still succeeded. 

But, now that she was held captive in a glass cage, she thought there was no better time to unlock that box.

The first memory was one of her favorites. Christmas morning spent under their Spruce tree, white lights twinkling off the red and gold glitter-dusted ornaments. Bronwyn eagerly tore through the Santa-printed paper on her last present, her pink, chubby cheeks strained from smiling. When the last piece of Scotch tape had been ripped free and chucked onto the carpet, she reached into the small, unmarked box and pulled out a snowglobe. 

It was a simple gift. The most she could afford at the age of ten. She had seen it in a shop window, and the figurines ice skating on a frozen pond instantly reminded her of the two of them. At the checkout counter, she had proudly presented her fistful of coins and crumpled notes to the saleswoman and proclaimed that it was for her little sister. 

Bronwyn’s squeal of excitement made it worth every pence she’d scrimped and saved throughout the year. She told her sister to shake the snowglobe and then set it on the coffee table. Together, they watched as the artificial snow descended on the ice skaters. In the background, their mum asked if anyone wanted to lick the chocolate-covered spatula from the dessert she was making, and Bronwyn scampered off before the last snowflake fluttered listlessly to the ground.

She stayed with the memory for a moment longer. 

In some places, the details had become distorted around the edges. She didn't know if they opened presents by the heat of a fire. Or if Christmas music played on the radio. Nor did she recall if her dad sat in his armchair or on the sofa next to her mum.

In other places, she remembered everything with such startling clarity. The angel on top of their tree wore a cream-colored dress with gold trim. The fringe on their tree skirt had a scorch mark from the time Bronwyn accidentally knocked over a candle. The house smelled vaguely of the gingerbread biscuits her mum baked for the neighbors the day prior. 

But what came next, she knew with absolute certainty, did not happen.

The confetti of snow at the bottom of the snowglobe began to tremble. Slowly, it lifted to the top of the glass as if gravity suddenly reversed itself. She leaned in to have a closer look, and then the whole house started to shake on its foundation. Picture frames toppled off the mantel above the fireplace. Candies rolled out of the stockings left abandoned on the coffee table. Ornaments loosened on their hooks, hitting the lower tree branches as they fell to the floor. 

A crash came from the kitchen, followed by Bronwyn’s startled scream. Behind her, she could hear her parents yelling her name. Their voices were muffled by the drumming of her heart and the deafening noise of their home being destroyed. At her feet, the fibers in the carpet stretched until they snapped, splitting it in half. There was a crack in the floorboards underneath that expanded clear across the room. 

She was rooted in her spot, unable to move to save her own life. Not even able to try and spare the lives of her family. It was surreal to stand idly by while her world crumbled around her. Inaction wasn’t in her nature. It had been trained out of her long ago. But Glengrove couldn't have possibly prepared her for this. 

There wasn’t any time to react as the floor opened up completely, and she catapulted downward. She was spiraling at a rapid speed into some unknown abyss, her stomach plummeting like she was on a roller coaster. In a last-ditch effort, she stretched her arms out on either side to slow her fall. It didn’t seem to work, though, so she squeezed her eyes shut and braced for the impact.

Then, she woke up in the cage. 

Before she could gather her bearings, nausea, unlike anything she’d ever experienced, hit her with full force. Her empty stomach was still doing somersaults, and foul-tasting bile rose in her throat. Quickly, she scrambled to her hands and knees and gagged onto the ground. Long strands of saliva hung from her mouth as her body tried to dispel whatever had made her so sick. 

“‘Bout time you woke up.”

Myfanwy wiped the spittle away with the back of her arm, then looked up accusingly at the man with the curly hair. He leaned casually against the glass panels, one leg crossed over the other, and studied the cuticles on his right hand. The top button of his black polo was unfastened, revealing a gold chain necklace. For a second, she allowed herself to fantasize about strangling him with it.

“What did you do?” she gasped. 

The man dropped his hand and turned to face her directly. “I brought you dinner. You have fifteen minutes to eat, and then I’m taking you to the loo.” He nodded at the plate left on the inside of the cage, next to the door. “I had to increase the dosage of apamin to make sure you would be... _cooperative_. It won’t kill you, but you may experience some less than savory side effects.” 

As if on cue, she felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of dizziness. She stifled a moan by pressing her face—dewed with a sickly, cold sweat—to the floor. Its solidness was all she could focus on while the rest of her body seemed to be pulled along by some unseen riptide. She took several deep breaths until the worst of it passed, and then glared up at him with all the contempt she was able to muster. “What makes you think I want to eat anything you’ve touched? For all I know, it’s poisoned.”

“Don’t eat it, then. I don’t care.” The man shrugged, unbothered. He sunk down onto the balls of his feet, so they were at eye level. “Keep in mind, though, that you’re still going to be put up for auction. I don’t think my buyers want to see a Level 8 emaciated and on the brink of death in the showroom. So, if you refuse to eat, I’ll be forced to intubate you.”

Feebly, she pushed herself to stand, her knees threatening to buckle underneath her. She took a few unbalanced steps toward the man, then placed her hand on the glass to steady herself. As she towered over him, she scowled and said, “Fuck you.”

The man smirked. “Another time, perhaps,” he suggested, rising to his full height. The gold of his chain necklace glinted in the light. It was definitely thick enough to choke him. “Fifteen minutes. The plate had better be empty by the time I get back.”

She smacked her palm against the wall at his retreating form. A sliver of light shined against the floor as he opened a door, then disappeared again. Sighing, she turned her back to the glass and slid down next to the plate. 

A single serving of vegetables sat on top of a bed of rice. Not entirely appetizing, but it was better than the ache in her stomach. To her disappointment, her captor hadn’t bothered giving her any utensils, so she settled for scooping a small portion in her hand. She gave it a cautious sniff, as if she’d be able to detect any hidden contaminants by smell alone, then finally tossed it back into her mouth. She chewed the first bite slowly, testing to see if she'd have some sort of reaction. After a couple of minutes, she still felt the same, and so she ate the rest of it with reckless abandon.

If she hadn’t been starving, she might have felt a hint of shame for eating like a wild animal, tearing into the bloody flesh of its kill. But as it stood, she was incredibly hungry, and despite what the curly-haired man had said, there was no guarantee that he’d feed her again. At least, not anytime soon. 

By the time she finished, her stomach was pleasantly full—the rice having helped relieve some of her nausea. Unfortunately, the man hadn’t given her anything to drink, and her mouth was painfully dry. She had the fleeting thought that it might be their next method of torture. Deprive her of water long enough that she would submit to anything they said. Answer anything they asked. Did she possess the strength to resist?

All of a sudden, the door across the room opened again. The sound of heels clicking on the floor alerted her to the fact that it was the woman this time. Anticipation swelled in her chest as she waited for her to appear. A moment later, she stepped out of the darkness wearing another skin-tight black dress and thigh-high boots. The silky tendrils of her hair were tossed over one shoulder, revealing a pair of gold drop earrings. 

She tapped her polished nails on her crossed arms and nodded approvingly at the cleaned plate. “Good. I trust that you’ll behave for this next part. I’m going to unlock this door and take you to the loo. If you try _anything_ , I promise that you’ll fail. Do you understand?”

Myfanwy chafed at her condescending tone. If there was anything she couldn’t stand, it was being infantilized. She wanted to snarkily reply that she had no intention of rolling over like a trained dog, but she didn't want to hurt her chances of being able to use the toilet. Instead, she simply nodded. 

The woman typed in a long passcode into the keypad, then pulled open the door. She stepped back to let Myfanwy through, her green eyes following her every movement like a cat watching a moth flutter about a flame. “Let’s go.”

Excitedly, she started toward the elusive door in front of the cage. There would be a finite amount of time for her to learn the layout of the house, to count how many other people were inside. The number of security cameras would also be helpful to know. If she could figure out where their surveillance room was located, she might be able to kill the feed. All she needed was access to a phone, and then she could hide out until either the effects of the sedative wore off, or reinforcements arrived.

The woman grabbed her by the upper arm. “No, this way.”

Myfanwy nearly jumped at the contact. Her eyes flickered down to the woman’s hand, an involuntary gasp slipping from her lips. A trail of heat burned across her skin, all the way through to her bones, and it made her realize how unbearably cold it was inside the cage. At the sensation, so many emotions battled for dominance—guilt, anger, relief—and she didn't immediately notice that she was being led away from the door.

Seconds later, they stopped in front of a black void. The woman let go of her arm, then reached out as if to touch something just ahead of her. There was a brief, tense moment before a tablet glowed to life. She swiped her index finger over the screen, and an invisible door automatically slid open. The interior of the loo was illuminated brightly, making her blink until her eyes adjusted. 

“There’s soap in the shower and a towel on the countertop. I have a meeting scheduled in twenty minutes, so I’m giving you fifteen.” The woman paused to look at her thoughtfully. “I can assure you there’s no way to get out. And there’s nothing you can use to fashion a weapon against me either. Don’t waste your time. Or mine.”

Myfanwy pressed her lips together tightly. The last person she would take advice from was her own abductor. Still, she put on an innocent expression as she passed the woman to enter the loo. She walked halfway into the small, whitewashed room and then waited for the door to close behind her. As soon as she heard it shut, she began to frantically search the space for anything she could use to defend herself. She pulled open the top drawers of the vanity, she looked inside the cabinets underneath the sink, and she threw back the glass shower stall door.

However, the room had been completely cleared out, except for the soap on the shower ledge and the towel folded next to the sink. There wasn’t even a mirror she could shatter. At least then, she could use one of the broken pieces as a blade.

Five minutes wasted for nothing. 

“Fuck,” she whispered. 

Quickly, she relieved herself and started the shower. It took another minute of playing with the settings until the temperature wasn’t scalding hot, and then she stripped off her clothes. She didn’t stop to wonder if any hidden cameras were monitoring her at that very moment. Based on the treatment she'd received thus far, she almost expected there to be one, and all it served was to fuel her rage at the Lugat and her conviction to escape.

The water pelted pleasantly against her body, her stiff and achy muscles relaxing for the first time in days. She swallowed several mouthfuls to quench her thirst before bowing her head into the stream and blindly reaching for the soap. It wasn’t the right product for her hair, but she didn’t particularly care as long as it cleaned off the dirt and grease. She also wanted to make sure she scrubbed off all traces of the cage’s aerosol. Even now, she smelled something vaguely sweet, and she imagined that it was still absorbing into her skin. 

There was no telling how much time was left, and so she moved hurriedly, making use of every second given to her. When she finished, she dried off every last droplet of water with the towel, then hung it on the shower door. She wrinkled her nose at the camisole and shorts still lying on the floor, wishing she had her old clothes back, or at least something that covered more of her body. 

Reluctantly, she picked up the top and put it on. As she pulled the shorts up to her waist, the door abruptly opened. 

The woman blinked at her, surprised. “Time’s up. Come on.”

Frustratingly, her face heated at having been nearly caught naked. She sighed at herself for letting her guard down and made her way out of the loo. The light radiating from the cage guided them like the North Star as they navigate through the darkness. She tried to find the borders of the room, but it was an impossible task in the pitch black. It might as well have been as endless as space itself. 

“What is this place?” she asked curiously. 

“No more questions.”

She mouthed the word “bitch,” then tried again. “You must live here, right? After the compound, do you really trust any other place to be safe?” Myfanwy stopped walking and turned to look at the woman. “And what about those other men? The ones who were with you last time. Do you trust that they’re not compromised?” 

The woman laughed genuinely. “I highly doubt it.” 

Myfanwy frowned. Ideally, she would be able to turn one of them against the others, make them question their role in the organization, and doubt their loyalty to its leaders. Her response didn’t bode well for that to happen, though. Not anytime soon, anyway.

Her cage wasn’t much further ahead now. The window of opportunity was narrowing, and she knew that she needed to act swiftly. And so, without giving herself the chance to back out, she took three more steps forward, then pivoted on her heel and struck the woman.

She landed her punch to the woman’s lower jaw, ignoring the pain that shot through her knuckles. The effects of the sedative had only slightly worn off, so there wasn’t a lot of force behind her fist, but the woman’s eyes rolled into the back of her skull, and she dropped to the ground. Her head bounced off the concrete, then she became still. 

Myfanwy panted from the modest exertion. She held her hand protectively to her chest as she watched the woman for any sign of movement. But the seconds ticked by, and she was out stone cold. Not wanting to waste any more time, she sprinted in the direction of the door across from the cage. Her legs were shaky underneath her, though she didn’t know if it was from the drugs circulating in her system, or the adrenaline. 

Up ahead, her eyes detected a small amount of light seeping out from beneath the frame of a door. She closed the space, nearly colliding with the wall, then ran her hands desperately along its surface in search of the door handle. As she felt for it, she noticed the shiny lens of a camera mounted on the ceiling, and she forced herself to move faster. After a moment, her fingers wrapped around the cold metal. She took a deep, steadying breath, preparing herself for whatever lay on the other side, and turned it downward. 

Nothing happened. 

She tried again as if she’d failed to use enough strength the first time. Nevertheless, the door refused to budge. With her heart thundering in her ears, she placed her hands back on the wall, and this time, she felt a box beside the door. 

A fucking scanner. 

She slapped it with her palm, then peered anxiously over her shoulder. The woman hadn’t moved at all since she’d hit her head. Instantly, her stomach twisted in knots at the thought that she was dead. Myfanwy was many things, but a murderer was not one of them. 

Beads of sweat dotted her hairline as she contemplated her next step. There was no chance she was getting out without an ID, and the only person who had one was the unconscious, possibly dead woman lying in front of her. And, selfishly, she needed to know if the woman was alive or not. If she’d committed such a heinous crime, she would have to find a way to live with it. She refused to hide from the truth. 

Myfanwy muttered a curse under her breath and then strode determinedly across the room. Inhaling deeply, she dropped to her knees and looked down at the woman’s chest. And immediately, she let out a sigh of relief, seeing it rise and fall. 

Her hands had become slick, and she wiped them dry on her shorts before searching for the ID. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find it. In the left side pocket of the woman’s dress, she pulled out a laminated ID case. Turning it over, the name at the top read: Eliza Gestalt, and a barcode was printed at the bottom of it. 

There was a flicker of recognition at the name, but she didn’t stop to give it any serious thought. She had the key to her freedom. 

Standing up, she raced to the door, the reality sinking in that she was about to escape. She swiped the card aimlessly in front of the scanner, waiting for the tell-tale sound of a lock disengaging. And she heard it. 

Grinning, she tried the handle again, and this time it worked. She whipped open the door, intending to run at full speed down a corridor, or up a set of stairs—anywhere that would take her to safety. The woman didn’t have a phone on her, though there was surely one somewhere in the house. All she had to do was find it. 

But her smile immediately fell as she came face-to-face with the bearded man from the previous day. 

Then, before she had any time to react, to defend herself, or to fight back, he stuck a syringe into her neck. Black spots danced across her vision. Static noises filled her ears. The man stepped forward to catch her so she wouldn't hit the ground, his arms tightening almost painfully around her back. Her head nestled at the hollow of his throat, the muscles in her neck no longer working. 

As the world faded away, she thought she heard him say, “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Myfanwy.”

* * *

When she awoke next, her entire body was in agony. 

She was lying on the floor of the cage with her hands tied behind her back. The air in her lungs seemed to thicken like smoke, which made it impossible not to wheeze and cough. A pulsing throb pounded in her temples, and it felt as if her eyes would pop out of their sockets. Even worse, the queasiness in her stomach had returned with a vengeance.

“That was a very stupid thing to do.”

Myfanwy groaned and turned her head toward the bearded man, who sat in a chair outside of the cage. He crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands in his lap, looking oddly at ease, given the current situation. The woman's body was noticeably absent, and Myfanwy wondered if she'd regained consciousness, or if someone had carried her out. 

In spite of the pain she felt, she smiled. “On the contrary, I think it was quite an informative experience. Not to mention, I knocked your friend out. That was especially satisfying.” 

“You’re as reckless as you are incompetent,” the man snarled. He leaned forward on his elbows to look at her closer, the gold signet ring on his right hand flashing. “Did you honestly think your plan would work? There’s video surveillance all around the house. You wouldn’t have made it ten meters until motion detection alerted me that you were out.”

Myfanwy pushed herself up to sit against the wall. “That’s a helpful tip. Thank you.”

The man shook his head. “If that tidbit of information is at all surprising to you, then the Checquy really did fail in training you for fieldwork.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as another wave of nausea rolled over her. “Fucking hell.”

The man leaned back in his chair, suddenly relaxed. “Since you still had some fight left in you, it seemed only appropriate that I increase your dosage of apamin again. The effects won’t be pleasant, I assure you. Headaches, nausea, fatigue, and light sensitivity. To name a few.” 

“If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done. Not just to me, but to all those other innocent EVAs,” Myfanwy threatened, trying to pull her hands free from the restraints

“You’re not the first person to say that, and you certainly won’t be the last. But I’m still here, aren’t I?” 

She laughed bitterly. “You haven’t met anyone like me before.”

The man pushed off the chair and walked up to the cage, so his face was near hers. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she saw a flicker of admiration in his expression. “And what makes you so special? You’re just another Rook of the _Checquy_. You’re fresh off the farm and barely know what you’re doing.”

“Maybe,” Myfanwy admitted. “Or maybe I’m the first Rook to infiltrate your auction. I’m a fast learner. In fact, I’ve already learned so much about you today.” She held his gaze for a moment. “The woman, Eliza Gestalt, I’d never seen her face before, but I have heard her name. _Your_ name. Gestalt. There have been whispers of you over the years. Stories about the EVA who is actually four EVAs. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen you for myself.” 

The man seemed briefly taken aback by her admission. “You _are_ a fast learner, aren’t you? If I wasn’t set to make a significant profit off of you, I might consider recruiting you instead.” 

If he’d meant it as a compliment, she certainly didn’t take it that way. She couldn’t think of anything more grotesque than profiting off of EVAs. Under no circumstance could she indulge in a life of luxury while EVAs were smuggled across state borders inside crates the size of shoe boxes. Judging by the way the man dressed, even by the way he carried himself like he had an air of superiority, he was well accustomed to the privileges his line of work afforded him. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, sliding closer to the glass. “You want everyone in the world to be as corrupt and cynical as you are. That way, you don’t have to feel guilty about the things you’ve done. Doesn’t it affect you at all, knowing that you’re trafficking EVAs just like you? Why would you align yourself with the Lugat?”

The man stared at her for a long time. “Why did _you_ align yourself with the Checquy? Does it give you a sense of purpose? A reason to wake up in the morning? The way I see it, there are only two places where I don’t have to hide who— _what_ —I really am: the Checquy and the Lugat. And the Lugat pays better.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So, it’s all about greed, then?”

“Isn’t everything? Let me ask you, why were you so eager to infiltrate my auction? It was a bold move, I’ll give you that, but why _you_ of all people? I’d think someone with years of field experience would have been a more suitable candidate. Wasn’t there a part of you that was foaming at the mouth at all the accolades you’d have received if it worked? Farrier won’t be King forever. Were you fantasizing about taking over one day?”

Myfanwy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, the thought had crossed her mind. Indignant, she glared at him haughtily. “You don’t know me.”

He grinned, amused by her behavior. “I do, actually. You forget that I’ve read the rather large case file the staff as Glengrove compiled on you. The notes from your therapy sessions were particularly interesting.”

Myfanwy’s mind raced as she tried to remember what exactly she’d discussed with her psychiatrists. In all truth, she’d repressed most of those memories because she often talked about her family in the first year or two. There might have been a few conversations about her distrust of the Checquy after she arrived at Glengrove House. Is that where all this was coming from? Was it a manipulation tactic? A way of recruiting her to the Lugat?

She made her face a mask of indifference. “A few scribbles written down on notebook paper more than ten years ago doesn’t tell you anything.”

“Hmm, perhaps not. But your reaction certainly does.” The man pulled his phone out from his coat pocket. His brows pinched together as he read something on the screen, and he typed a short reply before standing up again. “It looks like we’ll have to continue this conversation later. In the meantime, I’ll be upping the dosage of sedative by another five percent, seeing as you’re feeling strong enough to socialize. That should give you something to think about after the stunt you pulled this evening.”

Myfanwy watched helplessly from the floor while he tapped away at the cage’s control system. Her eyes darted up at the vent above the door, as if she’d be able to see some visible change in the air, and she dug her fingers more desperately into the bindings around her wrists. 

“You’re going to regret this,” she vowed, her voice shockingly steady. “I promise you, one day you’re going to look back at everything you’ve done, and you’re going to be disgusted with yourself.” 

The man shook his head, not bothering to meet her eyes. “You’re wrong.”

Panic pooled in her chest as she watched him turn away from her and walk toward the door she nearly escaped through. “Gestalt!” she yelled.

The man stopped mid-step, his back stiffening. 

“You can’t leave me in here, Gestalt!”

He turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder. “Trust me when I say this, Myfanwy. You’re exactly where you belong.” Then, he continued out of the room, the sound of the door closing like a slap in the face. 

Even though she was pissed that he’d left, she was also immensely relieved that she no longer needed to put on such a strong front. Turning her head, she coughed uncontrollably into her right shoulder and almost expected to see blood speckled on her skin when she pulled away. The muscles in her back became fatigued from holding herself up, so she carefully lowered herself down onto the floor, resting her head as comfortably as she could on its flat surface. She closed her eyes next, only intending to block out the intense lighting. And then she fell asleep. 

* * *

Her eyes opened again to a newspaper clipping taped to the glass. 

**Girl, 7, Abducted From Hospital Bed**

Below the headline, there was a picture of a gapped-tooth, smiling little girl. 

Myfanwy’s first inclination was that Vultures had snatched yet another child away from their family. There was only one reason why Gestalt would show her the article, and that was to punish her for trying to escape. They were taunting her because there was nothing she could do from the inside of the cage. She couldn’t even save herself, let alone anyone else in the world. 

But she knew the Lugat wasn’t responsible for the kidnapping. 

At the age of sixteen, she’d been taken by the Checquy under similar circumstances. She had woken up in the local hospital after her EVA manifested, her mum sobbing at her bedside. There were whispered promises that she would be home soon and that the doctors just needed to run a few more tests. Exhausted, she’d nodded and then fallen back to sleep. The next time she awoke, she found herself all alone, lying in the infirmary at Glengrove.

She was later told that her family feared for their lives after her EVA nearly killed her father, and so they relinquished custody of her to the government. The Checquy was well-equipped to handle her case and offered to take her into their care. In return for her service to their country, they could provide her with a home. A new family. 

Now, she had to wonder if there was any truth to it. 

Myfanwy sat up on her knees and skimmed the story, a frown forming on her lips as she read about the young girl, who collapsed while riding her bike down a residential street. A neighbor reportedly saw her eyes growing bright yellow before she dropped to the pavement. No one had taken the claim seriously, of course. It was the ravings of an old, senile woman. 

After being brought to Great Ormond Street Hospital, she was treated by physicians for a seizure. Her father was away on business in Naples, leaving only her mother to care for the girl. At around midnight, she had left the room momentarily to purchase a drink and snack from the vending machine down the hall, and when she returned, her daughter’s bed was empty.

The hospital was placed under immediate lockdown. None of the staff had seen anyone suspicious on the floor in the hours leading up to the disappearance, and all the other patients were accounted for in their rooms. A review of the hospital's surveillance footage found that all the cameras, in and around the building, had been cut approximately fifteen minutes before the girl was taken. The article concluded with a plea from investigators to report any information to the Metropolitan Police. 

Myfanwy felt sick with worry for the girl. Even if her intuition was right, and she was safe in Checquy hands, she still belonged with her family. She had accepted her fate a long time ago, but it would be a lie to say she’d never wondered how her life would have turned out if she wasn’t an EVA. Like the seeds of a dandelion blowing away in the breeze, all of her dreams as a sixteen-year-old girl flew out of reach the second she'd fallen off the rooftop of her parent's garage.

In another life, all of her wishes would have come true. Everything she wanted—University, marriage, children—it would have been within the realm of possibility. And she’d have her family by her side through all of it. 

It was a difficult truth to swallow. No matter if her parents had said those awful things about her or not, it didn’t warrant their deaths. Her sister was the most innocent of them all, and she certainly didn’t deserve to die. 

Myfanwy pressed her head to the glass. Another headache started in her temples, though she didn’t think it was from the sedative this time. There was too much information to process, too many unanswered questions. She took several calming breaths and reminded herself that her objective hadn’t changed. 

Sometime later, she came to a decision. She turned her head to look in the direction of the camera she’d seen at the door. He, she, they—whatever they called themselves—had to be watching. They had four fucking bodies, surely they devoted at least one of them to keeping an eye on her. If she was worth even half as much as they claimed, they would need to make sure she didn’t overdose on the aerosol. Or choke on her own vomit. 

The only question that remained was if the camera had audio. Sighing, she decided there was only one way to find out. She braced her back against the wall and pushed herself up to a standing position. Then, she crossed to the other side of the cage, staring directly at the camera within the darkness. “I have a proposition for you, Gestalt. One that’s more lucrative than anything your buyers could ever afford to pay you.”

The sound of her own breathing rattled in her ears. She listened intently, for the noise of footsteps approaching on the other side of the door, of the lock clicking open. The seconds stretched to minutes, though, and nothing happened. 

Maybe the camera didn’t have audio, after all. Or, maybe they had more important things to do all day than stare at a monitor in case she did something interesting. There was also no guarantee that they were home—if this even was their home.

Her skin prickled uncomfortably as her stomach started to churn. She lowered herself into one of the corners of the cage and bent her knees so she could bow her head between them. It felt like she was out at sea, the constant sway of the ocean throwing her off balance. She let out a low moan and squeezed her eyes shut as if she could force herself to fall asleep. At least it would be a slight reprieve from the sickness she felt. 

Distracted, she didn’t hear the door opening across the room. Nor did she hear their shoes thudding on the floor. She was only alerted to their presence by the not-so-subtle clearing of their throats. 

Myfanwy’s head snapped up at the noise, and she squinted at them as if they were nothing more than a hallucination. Another side effect of the drugs they had forced into her system. 

All four of them stood facing her, their expressions undeniably skeptical. The man with the slicked-back hair folded his hands in front of himself, showing off the gold Rolex watch on his left wrist, then nodded at her. “You have my attention. What is it that you have to offer?”

The color drained from her face at their question. She had it all planned out, every _excruciatingly_ minute detail, but now that the moment had arrived, she began to doubt whether it was the right choice. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, “I’ll be a double agent.”


End file.
